Before Now
by Hidden Voice
Summary: Allen Walker is 13 and is in training to become an exorcist. He can't stand his Master, but he can't help it. There's no escape from him. What will he make him go through, smiling at him with that wicked smile?


The horrible cackling laughter resounded throught the graveyard. It was a hoarse echoe, filled with pleasurable malice. It made him shudder, send a chill down his back.

_I'm so sorry, Mana…_

Young Allen Walker sat almost completely lifeless against a cold and simple tombstone. Deep rings circled empty dark eyes beneath a mop of unlikely white hair that stuck to the mixture of dirt and blood on his dampened face. His breathing was slow and his heartbeat followed the sound of the drops of water that fell from a strand of hair.

The rain had stopped, Mana stopped, the laughter stopped. Everything stopped. If so, why was he still there, his eyes fixed at the end of his cursed arm? He had no strength to bite it off and he was powerless. He felt weak… hollow. The weight of the blames fell upon him. Mana's angry vengeful voice still rang in his ears. He felt they would start bleeding.

Although it was still night, Allen's time had stopped. It was as though he'd been sitting there for days, waiting to be welcomed in the afterlife, if such a thing existed for a cursed person. He heard footsteps nearing, but he simply didn't move. He didn't _want_ to. Every step he took would only curse the path he'd leave behind.

"Looks like you finished the job in my place," he heard the stranger say as he crouched down in front of him after he'd scanned the surroundings. "Good work, little one." Allen felt his eyes drop on his demonic arm before returning his attention back to him. He let the stranger examie his face and reached to push some strands of hair that curtained over the mark over his eye left by Mana. He said: "Terrible fate, to be cursed this way. I might have some use for you." And that was that.

Darkness fell upon Allen as he felt the heaviness increase in his eyelids. For as long as he'd remained there in that graveyard, he'd failed to keep himself awake. He wanted to stay by Mana's tombstone and stay there day aftert day, begging for forgiveness. At least now, he was happy. Away from him and the man who'd called himself The Earl. He was at _peace_. The very thing Allen was sure he'd never find for himself.

As the days passed, Allen slumbered, awoke, and slept again. He never wanted to return to reality. The complete darkness conforted him. He was alone, safe, and he couldn't see the horrible arm that hung at his side. When he was awake, he could hear murmuring, other times, cheerful laughter. Once, he heard tools clanking together and two men talking in the room.

_Just keep sleeping and everything will end faster._ Allen told himself, pulling the covers over his head as he heard the door creaking open.

Another day passed…. And another…

"If you really wanted to die, you should've asked me when I found you and I would've ended your misery right away."

Allen shifted in the bed and he frowned with a grunt. His eyes opened with a blurry vision at first; it had been a while since he'd seen the light. Before him, a young man with red hair sat on a chair. He recognized that look, but the memory was very faint. Allen stuffed his face in his pillow, wrapped his arms around it and started in soft cries. Mana died… and it was all his fault. He managed to create something worse than death. He made him into something inhuman. An akuma.

"You'll never go anywhere simply by crying," the man said dully. "Pull yourself together. You should be over it by now."

Allen kept quiet, the pillow stuffed in his face as he manged to muffle his cries. For a moment, there was a silent. The man watched him rather monotonely; the thought made Allen feel awekward and his crying stopped. Again, he stayed silent as he turned his attention from the pillow, to the stranger. He noticed he wore a black set of clothing with golden edges and a large hat. He found himself speechless as he eyed the big golden ball that sat ontop his head. He stared at it, wide-eyed. It _breathed_.

"If you want one, you'd have to become an exorcist. And I believe… you have just what one needs to become an excelent one. _Get up_."

Allen shuffled to a sitting position. He didn't know why he obliged; he suppose it was fear. The man was frightening allright, and he was afraid of what he might do if he refused.

"What's an eggsorcicks?" Allen managed to mutter, his throat dry and his voice weak from those many days and nights of silence.

The man merely snirked at his question before answering. He released an aura that made Allen shiver. As he explained, he noticed he was a very vague speaker. His description of an exorcist was short, and Allen believed, incomplete. But, it was just enough to make him understand.

"What's your name, boy?" The stranger asked him, though there was no hint of curiosity of sympathy in his voice.

"A-Allen…Walker." It took him a while to mouth his last name. He no longer diserved to be a Walker. He disgraced his foster-father's name with his very existence. All thanks to that godforsaken arm.

Before his inquisitor could speak again, the door from the hallway opened and shut, letting in two giggling women aged around their twenties. One of them said as she noticed Allen in the bed; "Oh, my, General. Did you have an affair we're not aware of?"

The exorcist smirked again. He seemed amused by her curiosity.

"If I have, he would've been yours," the so-called General replied, approaching the two women and caressing their necks. The girl who was spoken to giggled, but the other glared over at Allen coldly. He noticed a dark violet hue over her head but chose to ignore it. He hoped they would leave soon: an uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut.

"If you'll excuse me, I have soem business with this boy. Do not be discouraged. You'll be joining me soon enough," the General said after a moment, sending them out. Allen noticed him nodding at the gloomier girl before they dissapeared behind the corner and the door opened and shut again.

"Think about it," the General said unexpectedly, inally returning his attention to the lonely boy sitting on the edge of his bed.. "If you become an exorcist, you will accomplish many things.You've already accomplished one exorcism... I believe you can do much mroe than that, with that arm of yours."

"NO!" Allen burst. "I won't use it again! I won't!"

"Don't you want to know _why _you own it? Why you were entrusted to have it? Idiot boy. What that is is an anti-akuma weapon. With it, you could save hundreds, no thousands of souls."

Allen thought for a moment. Mana's words resounded in his ears. _Keep walking, foreward, Allen._ _Don't use that arm for wrong-doing. If you do, God will punish you for your evil.  
_

"I'll train you to be an exorcist if you give yourself to me for 2 years. Understand?"

Allen nodded hesitantly. For a boy of 13, he wasn't sure if he wanted to live the rest of his life to destroy whatever Mana had become. He only prayed that his decision would make him happy. He would fight them for Mana, and endure this man's training for him. 2 years... seemed quite fair.


End file.
